Subject to the Chances
by ALC Punk
Summary: Unfinished Business AU, what if Kara hadn't bothered staying with Lee? Revisionist history.


Disclaimer: not mine.  
Pairings: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, Laura Roslin/William Adama, references Kara Thrace/Lee Adama.  
Rating: eh. 13ish. Fairly kiddie safe. Some cursing.  
Notes: This was the fic I was complaining about the other day (oh, revisionist history. sigh). I... It is a fluffier universe. People are well-adjusted there. Yup. Title stolen from random line of poetry. I love the Norton Anthology for this purpose.  
Contains: Spoilers for Unfinished Business. 

**_Subject to the Chances_** ALC Punk!

Kara woke abruptly, with cold ground on her side and a warm body pressed against her front. She sucked in a breath and almost groaned at the taste in her mouth. How much had she drunk the night before? More than Sam, less than the Tighs combined, probably.

It occurred to Kara, suddenly, that Lee had been there. At some point.

There was a moment where she was suddenly certain that she was going to wake up next to Apollo, but then she realized that while she was curled against someone definitely male, the hand cupping her ass was most certainly the property of only one man. Samuel T. Anders had this thing about groping her while she slept. It appeared that, even drunk off his ass and snoring under a table, he continued the tradition.

Except there wasn't a table.

Kara finally cracked an eye and stared at the grass and bushes around them. Nope. No table.

Someone had wandered by and draped a blanket over them. That was something she didn't remember being there. Kara tugged at it and moved a bit closer to Sam. He was warm. She was cold. The logic was simple.

Her mind popped up the image of Lee Adama mocking her choice in careers. And her choice in men.

Sucking in the scent of stale alcohol, dirt and sweaty man, Kara had to admit that Sam really was a cheap date. It was kind of sad.

The hand on her ass shifted upwards, fingertips resting just against the skin of her back.

A cheap date, and he had no stamina for sex once he was completely wasted. Of course, neither did most men. Except possibly Colonel Tigh, and that wasn't something Kara was ever going to ask Ellen about anytime soon. If ever. There were some things she just did not want to know about the man, and his sexual prowess was one of them.

Still, Kara couldn't exactly figure out where the table had disappeared to.

She could definitely remember drinking Sam under it--and Lee commenting on it. She'd had to agree, after all, it was pretty frakkin' funny.

And then Lee had...

Lee had kissed her.

That didn't seem right, though. Lee hadn't kissed her on the parade grounds. Sam had, though. Before he'd fallen under the table in a drunken stupor and passed out. It was why she'd been irritated. Her skin had itched for more than kissing and he'd had the audacity to just pass out on her.

Memory floated free, then.

::"Kara Anders."

"I'm not getting married."::

Automatic denial. She frowned, trying to figure out where that conversation had happened. Before or after the dancing?

Sam's hand shifted higher and she tried not to react.

After the dancing, she decided as more hazy memory returned. Lee had teased her about the planet and settling until she'd dragged him up to the slope she'd been standing on three days before.

Down below, Sam and several members of the resistance were chatting. Or working. From where she was, she couldn't tell. All she could see was them and the occasional movement. The air had danced along her skin and she'd wondered what it would be like to step off the edge and fly free.

I'll build a house.

Lee had mocked that notion, too.

And she'd told him she was thinking of mustering out. Leaving the fleet--the only life she thought she'd ever need--to stay on planet.

There'd been derision from him at that idea as well. As if her ideas weren't good enough. It had pissed her off. Lee Adama, poster boy for the I Am Always Right club was mocking her life choices. Well, it wasn't his life to live.

And when he moved in and kissed her, she waited for that long-ago attraction to surface and over-ride her intelligence.

Attraction had flared, sure. So had the thought that Sam was a better kisser. Of course, he was drunk. Kissing Lee, Kara'd weighed her options and then she'd stepped back and looked at him.

::"Go find Dualla, Lee."::

He hadn't replied before she'd disappeared into the darkness.

The trip down, Kara remembered falling once and almost bouncing when she shoved back to her feet. She'd laughed. Gods, she'd been drunk. And it had been dark. Darker than she'd expected, but maybe the alcohol had just blurred her vision. She'd come back to the grounds and found Sam where she'd left him.

Sprawled under the table, one hand around the leg.

A giggle had escaped her.

One escaped her now and she stifled it as Sam shifted beneath her, hand tugging her shirt higher and then flattening against her lower back.

It had taken forever to wake him, and forever to get him up and moving, but halfway to whatever she'd been planning, he'd fallen and taken her with him. Kara remembered his mouth on her neck and his hands working beneath her clothes and then he'd fallen asleep again.

Damn.

"Sam." She poked him. "Sam, Sam, Sam. Wake up."

He groaned. "Kara."

"Wake up." She poked him again.

"Ow." His hand moved against her back, fingers sliding under her waistband to grope her ass. "Kara, stop poking me."

"You," she informed him, moving to straddle him and ignoring her protesting and stiff muscles, "fell asleep on me."

"What?"

"You did. Mid-sex, Sam."

He cracked one eye open and stared at her. "Where are we?"

"I have no idea." Kara leaned down and licked his nose.

He wrinkled it, "Stop that."

Before she could answer, a rather dry voice said from nearby, "Bill, is there a reason Kara Thrace is being obnoxious this early in the morning?"

The reply shocked the crap out of Kara and she stared down at Sam, eyes wide.

"I don't know, Laura, why don't you ask her."

Kara felt a bubble of laughter well up in her belly and clamped her lips closed to suppress it. Sam stared up at her, apparently fully awake now. He shifted, and she kept her lips closed and smirked with her eyes. Definitely awake.

"We gave them a blanket, the least you would expect is some courtesy."

Sam's hand wriggled against her skin, his eyes amused as he looked up at her. Kara let out a laugh and then dropped her head to kiss him, silencing the rest. When she had recovered slightly, she straightened a little. "Madame President--"

"Not anymore, Captain."

"Right. Um. Miss Roslin. I'm, I'm--" Kara laughed again, "Thank you for the blanket."

From the other side of the bushes, the ex-President of the colonies replied serenely, "You two were shivering."

Giddy, suddenly certain her future might not be so bleak after all, Kara called, "Admiral Adama, sir. Since you're in such a good mood, I request permission to muster out and marry Sam Anders."

Sam stared up at her. "I don't remember a proposal."

A snicker came from the other side of the bush.

Kara ignored it and met Sam's gaze, "So you don't want to marry me?"

"I don't know, Kara. Try asking."

Asking. It would be easy for him to say no. Hell, it would be easy for him to say no and then dump her ass and go find someone nice, like Cally. Cally would be a good wife. Cally wouldn't mock him and kick his ass and yell at him when he was stupid. Cally wouldn't shut him out and hide when things got to be too much. Of course, Cally was stupid in love with the Chief, so he'd have to find another girl. But then again, there was no way he could say no. Was there?

Kara blurted out her words, "Sam, will you marry me?"

"Not sure I can put up with you for the rest of my life." He replied, looking very serious.

"Ass," Kara informed him, grabbing a handful of grass and dumping it on his chest.

"Hey!"

"I asked you a question."

He grabbed her hands in his and tugged her down. "You mean it?"

"No, I was proposing to the Admiral." She said sarcastically.

"Sorry, Starbuck, I'm not getting married again."

"Seems he's turned me down, Sam. Guess I'll have to marry you."

"I haven't said yes yet," he objected.

Kara kissed him.

"Bill, could you please tell the children to go away and let us sleep?"

Laughing, Kara pulled away from Sam, "I think we're being asked to leave, Sam."

"You're the one being noisy." He pointed out, grabbing her by the waist and holding her there. "I don't know if I want to wake up to you for the rest of my life."

Oh. Kara opened her mouth to say something flippant, anything to break the sudden cold tension coiling in her gut. Sam's hand came up, his fingers brushed her lips, silencing her.

"But I'm also pretty sure I don't want to wake up without you."

Kara deciphered that, then snorted, "That the best you can do, jackass?"

"Ah. Abuse." Sam grabbed the collar of her shirt and yanked her back down. "The things you'll do to my ego."

"Sam..." she trailed off, her tone a warning.

"Yes."

"Don't think I heard that."

Snickers and laughter came from the other side of the hedge, and then the Admiral's voice called, "Starbuck, please take your man off and do things I'm too old to do."

"You weren't too old last night."

The Admiral harrumphed.

"Should we let the old people be, Sammy?"

"Kara."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't call you that." She teased, leaning down to kiss him.

"Kara," he mumbled against her lips. Then he seemed to forget what he was going to say, one hand tangling in her hair to hold her still so he could kiss her senseless.

A breathless while later, Kara pulled back, "We were asked to leave."

"Don't think I can get up."

"You're not that old." She mocked.

"Kara," came the Admiral's dry voice, "Go away."

"Sir, yes, sir!" She tossed a salute towards him and scrambled up, kicking her fiance. "Up, Sam."

"Admiral, is there any way to get out of marrying her now I've said yes?" Sam called.

"No, son, there isn't."

"Damn." Sam rolled to his feet and eyed her, hands on his hips.

Kara swished the blanket at him. "C'mon, Sammy."

"Run," he informed her.

He was serious. Kara took in the deadly look in his eyes and squeaked, "Don't kill me."

"Convince me not to."

"Shit." Kara took off, blanket in one hand. She was laughing, though.

They ran until Kara was breathless with laughter and exertion. Ran until they were nearly to the river's edge. Ran until she glanced over her shoulder and realized he was right there. In the next instant he tackled her and they went down, tumbling and wrestling until he was on top. Sweat and dirt streaked his face as he glared down at her. "Don't call me that."

Sensing he really meant it, Kara nodded, "Ok. No calling you that."

"Good."

Kara wrapped her arms around him and sighed happily, "But you're still going to marry me, right?"

"Yup." He kissed her nose.

"Good."

Now, she just had to remember not to drink him under the table again.

-f-


End file.
